


The Light Only Dies to Remember

by MariaLee



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: Knights of the Old Republic, Star Wars Legends: Knights of the Old Republic II: The Sith Lords
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Role Reversal, Canon-Typical Violence, Electrocution, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Force Bond (Star Wars), Implied/Referenced Torture, Imprisonment, Jedi Atton Rand, Role Reversal, Sith Soldier Meetra Surik
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-07
Updated: 2018-08-07
Packaged: 2019-06-23 02:51:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 19,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15596589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MariaLee/pseuds/MariaLee
Summary: Despite growing up in the Jedi Order, Atton Rand has never been a model Jedi. But that doesn’t stop Sith Lords Revan and Malak from hunting him down, and Atton soon finds himself in Sith custody with no chance for escape. Perhaps the worst part of his captivity is the guard he knows only as Surik, a woman who seems simultaneously intrigued and enraged by Atton’s very existence.(A KOTOR II AU role swap in which Always-A-Jedi Atton meets Jedi-Hunter Meetra Surik)





	1. Their Blood on Your Hands

1.

"Cheater!"

"Lady," Atton sighed as he stared down the Rodian who was pointing accusingly at him, "If I could cheat half as well as you seem to think I can, do you think I'd be sitting in this scummy little cantina?" He gestured to the sticky floor stained with what he was hoping was juma juice. "Really?"

The Rodian narrowed her large black eyes as her snout bent into a scowl. "If you're not cheating, you have a remarkable amount of luck, Human."

"What can I say?" Shrugging helplessly, Atton began to collect his winnings from the dented durasteel table. "I can't help it if I was born lucky." Despite the smile that he plastered on his face, something in his gut sank as he tucked the credits into his pocket. Luck, the Force… whatever you wanted to call it… hadn't been with him in a long time.

Still scowling in annoyance, the Rodian continued to glare at her pazaak opponent as he strode away with a roguish swagger. "You should be careful, Human," she warned. "Not everyone is as _trusting_ as me."

Straightening the collar of his shirt, Atton cast a final smirk over his shoulder. "Don't worry, sweetheart. I can handle myself." His hand drifted casually towards the blaster pistol holstered at his hip, lingering there for a moment in warning. Force willing, he wouldn't have to use it.

Even as his fingertips brushed the cool grip of the pistol, his attention drifted to the lightsaber hilt clipped to the back of his belt and hidden beneath the thick material of his jacket. While a discerning eye might catch the bulge of a concealed weapon, it was easy enough to excuse as a hold-out blaster for emergencies. A simple subterfuge made more convincing by the fact that he hadn't actually drawn his 'saber in over a year. Despite this, the hilt was a comforting weight pressed against the small of his back, reminding him of better times.

Times when he could have been a hero.

Spitting a few final curses in her native language, the Rodian made an obscene gesture as she watched Atton walk off with the last of her credits. Luckily, or perhaps unfortunately, most of her words were drowned out by a loud boom that echoed from the walkway just in front of the cantina. Whatever caused the sound was powerful enough to shake the thin walls of the rundown establishment, causing the floor to vibrate beneath the patrons' feet. Atton instinctively crouched closer to the ground, using his arms to steady his balance as his hands balled into fists. "What the hells?" he wondered to himself, even as a second blast rocked the cantina once more, this time sending out a sonic screech that made his ears ring and his hair stand on edge.

Many of the patrons were already panicking, racing for the exit as the bartender struggled to keep the crowd from trampling each other. Their emotions were a rising tide of fear and anxiety that rippled through the Force, creating a low buzz just beneath Atton's skin. He shook off the feeling as he pushed his way through the increasingly-desperate crowd, finally locating the Twi'lek waitress and pulling her aside.

"What the kriff is going on?" Atton demanded, brow furrowing in alarm.

"How should I know?" The waitress tugged her wrist out of the Human's grasp with and annoyed scowl, though the expression faded to one of horror as the boom of another explosion filled the air. "I just work here… and I'm sure as hells not getting paid enough!"

With a sigh, Atton let the woman flee as he considered what to do next. Whatever violence was erupting outside was certainly none of _his_ business. It was probably just another 'friendly disagreement' between the Hutts and the Exchange, or a bounty hunter getting too enthusiastic about catching their quarry. For a moment he considered sitting down and ordering another damn drink with his recently-won credits, but that idea evaporated as a wave of sheer agony crested through his mind, knocking the breath from his lungs and causing his knees to go weak.

The Force throbbed with a mounting storm of pain and terror, the sensation a sign that the situation beyond the cantina was far worse than a few criminals having a shoot-out over their territory. Pushing his way through the crush of sentients, Atton managed to reach the door just as several patrons who had fled outside suddenly stumbled back in. One Weequay was clutching a blaster bolt wound in his right side, limping along with help from an Aqualish who rasped out, "A group of Humans is throwing grenades and firing on anything that moves. They don't care who's caught in the attack… I even saw a child…"

Atton's resolve to remain uninvolved suddenly evaporated, his jaw tensing as he shouldered his way past the confused cantina-goers. While the criminals who populated Nar Shaddaa were known for their ruthlessness, there was still a code of conduct that most of them followed. It was nebulous and morally questionable at best, and innocent civilians often became pawns in the machinations of powerful individuals. But even by those loose standards, whatever was going on outside was _wrong_.

Another deluge of pain ripped through the Force as blaster fire shrieked, drawing a gasp from Atton as sensation washed over him, cold and cloying. Pushing his way to the door, he fumbled a bit as he drew his pistol, the grip feeling awkward and off-balance in his hand. But no matter how wrong it felt to use the damned thing he was sure as hells going to try because there was no way that he could just sit back and let this type of unadulterated violence unfold. It wasn't right. It wasn't the Jedi way.

But then again, he wasn't exactly a Jedi anymore.

Shaking his head to banish that train of thought Atton surged out of the cantina, blaster held at the ready as he surveyed the scene. Smoke hung heavy in the air, obscuring anything more than a meter away and making it hard to breathe without coughing. Closing his eyes, the Human took a moment to calm his mind and center himself, releasing the anxiety that was building in his chest and letting his thoughts settle into the soothing currents of the Force that flowed around him. _Focus your thoughts, just play pazaak like you always do. Draw your first card, it's a three. Your opponent draws their first card, it's a ten._ Gradually, he began to consciously slow his breathing as his body adjusted to need less oxygen.

No longer choked by the smoke, Atton was able to observe more of the chaos surrounding him. The bodies of the injured and dying lay scattered along the walkways, their groans almost swallowing the incessant whine of rifle bolts that were being fired by multiple figures positioned strategically along the street. They all appeared to be Human, just like the Aqualish described, each one dressed in a nondescript gray uniform that bore no markings of rank or other insignias.

But Atton didn't need to see anything else to recognize them for what they were. "Sith," he hissed under his breath as he raised his blaster pistol and opened fire on the nearest assailant.

The shot went wide, arcing over the Sith's shoulder and dissipating harmlessly against the durasteel railing that protected pedestrians from falling for hours down Nar Shaddaa's urban landscape. _'Take the greatest Jedi Knight and watch as one tries to hold a blaster as they try to hold a lightsaber…'_ The words of Master Kae echoed through Atton's mind as his second shot also missed. Gritting his teeth, he aimed more carefully as he fired again, focusing on keeping his hands steady rather than swinging them in time with his attacks.

Though his arms practically shook with the effort of holding them still, Atton finally managed to fire in a straight line. The bolt soared through the air before hitting its mark, striking one Sith squarely in the side and causing the man to double over in pain. A thrill of triumph warmed Atton's chest and he grinned, shoulders already tensing to fire another volley of shots. As he found his rhythm the screech of his pistol became a comfort, almost as reassuring as the steady hum of a lightsaber.

But all of the careful aim in the galaxy didn't make the Sith any easier to hit. For nondescript soldiers they were alarmingly agile, dodging behind crates and around corners with practiced precision as they continued their assault on the population. The second they realized that Atton was a credible threat they seemed to take extra precautions to avoid him and instead opened fire on any pedestrians who appeared nearby, continuing to lob grenades full of the greenish gas that filled the area with thick, choking smoke.

"Move, you _schutta_! Before you get yourselves killed!" Atton shouted at a pair of Ithorians who seemed to think that they were somehow impervious to blaster fire, going by the way that they walked mindlessly into the ongoing assault. One of the individuals heeded his warning and ducked into the nearest alleyway, but the other remained oblivious to the shouts. The Sith immediately took interest in this new target and trained their weapons on the startled sentient, at least three rifles opening simultaneous fire in a hail of bolts.

Horror gripped Atton as he watched the scene unfold, and instinct took over his body as he reached into the Force and used it to physically throw the Ithorian, now frozen in fear, away from the onslaught. He watched as the stranger soared back a meter or so, hovering in the air for a moment before tumbling into a stack of plastisteel canisters. The landing probably hurt, but bruises were a lot less lethal than blaster bolts. An instant later he winced, slowly realizing that he had used his powers without actually meaning to, the desire to protect an onlooker temporarily overcoming his sense of self-preservation.

For a fleeting moment, Atton hoped that the Sith didn't notice his slip. Unsurprisingly, no such luck.

One Sith, in particular, seemed to note his Force connection, her blue eyes narrowing as she stared at him before whispering something unidentifiable to one of her associates. The next moment she trained the sight of her rifle directly on the Force user, grim determination spreading across her round, surprisingly lovely face.

As the bolts soared through the air Atton dove to the ground, years of training and Force-enhanced reflexes enabling him to tumble into a neat roll before twisting back onto his feet. But the blaster fire followed him and soon he was running for his life, multiple rifles now punctuating his every action with searing hot bolts. "What the hells?!" he yelled, his body moving with inhuman speed as he utilized abilities that he had been neglecting for over a year. Yelping in frustration as a shot nicked his heel, he threw his pistol to the side as he reached beneath his jacket, quickly drawing his lightsaber from its hiding place.

Despite the time that had passed the hilt felt wonderfully familiar in his palm as he ignited the plasma with a cocky flick of his thumb. The yellow blade appeared with a _snap-hiss_ , illuminating the area as Atton stopped running and turned to face his assailants. While his cover was now _officially_ blown, he was pretty sure the Sith had figured things out before he drew a Jedi's signature weapon. Besides, he had been keeping his lightsaber in reserve for when he had no other options and he had definitely run out of other ideas.

Rusty as he was, Atton deflected the first series of bolts with relative ease, his body naturally falling into the rhythm of Soresu. It was one of the first forms he had learned on his path to becoming a Sentinel and was still the fighting style that he fell back on most often. _Old Kavar would probably be proud…_ Grimacing at that memory, he deflected two more bolts before breaking into a run, his muscles beginning to burn with exertion. Now that he was tiring he could feel even more pairs of Sith eyes watching him, the sights of their rifles tracking his every movement. That urged him on, keeping his legs propelling him steadily forward until he could skid gracelessly down a side street.

Now fleeing blindly, Atton managed to vault over a pile of plastisteel bins, using a Force push to tumble them in his wake. The soles of his boots scraped loudly as he veered around a narrow corner, the sound almost enough to drown out the panicked thumping of his heart. His biological control was slipping, his lungs and muscles now screaming for oxygen as he began to pant. Despite his efforts to regain control, his mind was too clouded with icy fear to properly clear his thoughts and refocus his breathing. As he raced down an alleyway that was little more than a narrow ledge overlooking the many levels of Nar Shaddaa, he looked around and realized that his only escape route was blocked by a large building. "Kriff," he wheezed, his body tensing with dread, "It's a dead end."

Glancing frantically at the surrounding area, Atton desperately searching for something, _anything_ , that could keep the Sith off his tail. Maybe there was a crate to hide behind or a way to scale the wall, or…

"I guess your luck finally ran out, Jedi." A pair of steely blue eyes stared at the Force user from behind the protective visor of a breath mask. Her rifle was grasped with practiced ease, the muzzle aimed directly at her quarry's heart.

Forcing a grin that felt more like a grimace, Atton couldn't hold back the bitter laugh that escaped him. "Sweetheart, I haven't been a Jedi in a while," he replied as he carefully raised both hands and powered down his weapon.

Eyes flicking towards the lightsaber hilt still clutched in the man's grasp, the Sith snorted. "Really? Could have fooled me." Her finger twitched on the trigger. "Now, are you going to come quietly, or are you going to keep causing a scene for all of these innocent people?"

Anger froze in Atton's gut, and his hand clutched his 'saber harder. "I'm not the one who caused this mess! This… this kriffing _slaughter_." He jerked the powered-down weapon towards the woman. "This was all _you._ But that's all the Sith are, isn't it? Just death and suffering that you blame on others. The Mandalorians, the Republic…"

"So, I guess we're doing this the hard way," the Sith sighed as she watched the Force user rant at her. Without shifting her attention, she called, "Knock him out!"

An instant later the rest of the squadron seemed to materialize out of the darkness, their presence somehow hidden from Atton until this moment. As they appeared their rifles and grenade launchers let loose a sudden cloud of sizzling electric bolts and choking green gas. Upon realizing that the goal was to stun him, Atton ignited his lightsaber and redoubled his efforts to deflect the shots. But it was hard when the air around him was causing his eyes to water and his throat to burn as he gagged on the toxic fumes. _Draw your second card, it's an eight. Three and eight are… are..._ No matter how hard he tried to clear his mind and regulate his breathing or to drive the Sith back with a single push, panic and exhaustion overwhelmed his connection to the Force. It was as though the Force was taunting him, lingering just out of reach when he needed it most.

It was hard to tell what knocked Atton down. It may have been the gas that made his chest burn with poison or the bolts that struck his limbs and caused his muscles to seize and twitch. Either way, it only took seconds for him to fall to the ground, his lightsaber slipping from his fingers and sliding across the walkway. The last thing he saw as he lost his battle with unconsciousness was the Sith's sparkling blue eyes as she stared calmly down at him.


	2. Lines Were Drawn for Us

2.

"Ow, Force! How much juma juice did I _drink_?" Consciousness slammed into Atton's head, along with a throbbing headache that pounded against his skull. As he spoke he gagged slightly at the rancid taste that coated his mouth and too-dry tongue. "Ugh," he muttered eloquently. As he reached up to rub his aching temples his hand brushed against something strange around his neck, the cold metal a stark contrast to the warmth of his skin. A moment later he noticed the buzzing sensation that traveled up his spine and into his skull, filling his head with constant noise that dulled his thoughts and drowned his senses. Inhaling slowly, he tried to center himself, attempting to release his emotions and draw upon the Force to clarify his mind. _Come on, Rand. Draw your first card, it's an eight. Your opponent draws their first card, it's a three. Draw your second card, it's a four. Eight and four are twelve…_

Meditation had been ingrained in him since childhood, and it normally came as instinctively as breathing. _Your opponent draws their second card, it's a six. Six and three are nine..._ But no matter how carefully he focused, the natural ebb and flow of the Force within his body felt like it had been replaced by static that was too disjointed and chaotic for him to summon. Now fully awake, Atton shot into a sitting position as he suddenly realized that his Force connection had somehow been blocked. Drawing a panicked breath, he caught the scent of smoke and chemicals still clinging to his clothing. The events of the previous night came rushing back, and he let out a colorful string of curses as he looked around and noted that he was trapped behind the shimmering walls of a force cage. Beyond the containment field was durasteel and nothingness, the rest of the room a featureless cell.

He felt off-balance as he climbed to his feet, his limbs heavy and sluggish thanks to whatever gas had been used to incapacitate him. While his arms and legs were free, this wasn't much of an advantage without the Force to aid him. The unexpected loss of the innate connection that Atton had possessed his entire life was jarring, filling him with spite. Snarling in frustration he lashed out and kick one wall of his prison which, unfortunately, was a terrible idea. As the sole of his boot struck the containment field, a painful jolt of electricity shot through his limb, swiftly moving into his entire body and causing his already sore muscles to tense and his teeth to clench. He shouted in surprise, lingering aftershocks continuing to prick his skin and make him twitch.

"Ahh! What the…" Springing back from the walls of the cage, Atton glared at them suspiciously.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," a voice warned belatedly. The blue-eyed Sith woman strolled towards the small prison bemusedly. "The barrier is completely electrified."

"Aw hells, I didn't notice!" Atton growled sarcastically.

The woman sighed. "Well, now you know." She shifted her weight thoughtfully, crossing her arms across her chest.

Tapping the collar around his neck, which he suspected was some form of neural inhibitor, Atton scowled at his captor. "Is this _really_ necessary? You already have me in an electrified cage inside of the most boring room in the galaxy."

Arching a brow, the Sith examined him carefully. "Are you _honestly_ asking if blocking a captive Jedi from the Force is necessary?" When her question was met with stony silence, she didn't seem surprised. "We've been tracking you for months, Rand. Of course we're going to take every possible precaution."

"...Months?" Hysterical laughter threatened to bubble up in Atton's parched throat. "You've been looking for me for _months_?"

"Give yourself more credit, 'Jaq,'" the Sith used her fingers to put quotes around the pseudonym. "Sentinels like you are the hardest type of Jedi to locate. You're trained to disappear when you need to."

And really, most of that was true. But Atton couldn't help being contrary, "I'm not a Jedi. Not anymore."

Standing perfectly still less than a meter from the cage, the Sith studied her captive. Her gaze was distinctly critical, yet not wholly unkind. It somehow matched her face, the round softness offset by her sharp chin, her short blonde ponytail framed by long bangs that fell softly across her forehead. "The yellow lightsaber that we confiscated from you tells a different story." An amused smirk played at the corner of her mouth. "Maybe I've got my galactic history wrong, but aren't lightsabers traditionally the signature weapons of the Jedi? Unless they're now standard issue for every spacer on Nar Shaddaa..."

"Ha." Atton snorted in contempt at the very idea. All these years later, he could still remember Master's Lestin's face as the Twi'lek pressed the yellow crystal into his palm and commented that the path of the Sentinel would suit him best. After all, Atton lacked the physical prowess of a Guardian or the raw Force connection of a Consular. But, the Master insisted, he had _other_ talents that could still serve him well… which was clearly a bad prediction.

"So then, what do _you_ call yourself as these days?"

Still glaring balefully at the electrified walls of his cage, Atton grit out, "Not. A. Jedi."

The Sith blinked once, he brows raising doubtfully. "You know, a whole lot of people in the Refugee Sector will probably tell it differently after what they saw last night."

"Wanting to protect innocent people doesn't automatically make me a Jedi." A mixture of pride and shame warred through Atton's mind. He tried to release both emotions, to clear his thoughts, but the Force remained beyond his grasp. "In case you didn't notice, hiding on the kriffing _Smuggler's Moon_ isn't exactly the Jedi way." He swallowed hard at this admission, voice lowering as he mumbled, "A Jedi wouldn't do what I did. A Jedi wouldn't…"

As the man trailed off, the Sith let out a puzzled, "Hmm?"

"Nevermind," Atton finally sneered, turning his face away from his captor. "You don't care. You're going to keep me caged in here no matter what I say, so why should I say anything?"

A faint flicker of disappointment passed over the Sith's features, though her tone was approving as she stated, "Not a bad plan, Rand." Even as he lapsed into silence she kept her attention trained on him, continuing to watch him curiously.

It was several long minutes before the sheer intensity of her gaze caused Atton to snap. "What? Are you seriously just going to stand there _staring_ at me all day?"

"At least until my shift's over," the Sith admitted with a chuckle. "It is called _guard duty_ for a reason."

"So, you're guarding me." Carefully slotting that information away, Atton thought for a moment as he considered how to continue this line of questioning. "Sounds like you're going to be here for a while."

The Sith shrugged noncommittally before lapsing into several seconds of stony silence.

Sensing that he wasn't going to get much more out of his captor, at least not yet, Atton finally leveled a weary look at her. "Well, since you apparently know _everything_ about me, can I at least know your name?"

She seemed genuinely surprised when she asked, "Why?"

"So that I know what to call you when I inevitably need to take a piss or something!" Atton blurted out in frustration.

Waiting until her prisoner settled, the Sith finally gestured to the floor of the cell. "Actually, there's a drain in there."

Atton's jaw slowly dropped as he processed that response, his eyes flicking between the fist-sized grate in the corner of the cage and his captor. "You're _joking_ , right?"

Her expression somber, the Sith shook her head. "Serious as a heart attack."

"You're making me piss." Atton's teeth ground in indignation. "On the floor."

"In a drain," the Sith corrected.

"And you can't even give me your kriffing name?!"

"I guess you've got a point." Despite this admission, the Sith still paused for a long moment before softly informing him, "It's Surik."

This small concession surprised Atton, though he tried not to let it show as he wondered, "Is... that a first name or a last name?"

"It's the only name you're getting, Rand." Surik offered him a sly little half-smile that was one part cheeky and one part sarcastic. "Now how about you try being quiet for a little bit? It might make this more pleasant for both of us."

\+  +  +

The days were all a single blur for Atton, mostly due to the fact that the light in his small cell was never turned off. At first, he tried to tell time by the changing of his guard, though his internal clock told him that there wasn't a set schedule for their entrances and exits. He had a sinking suspicion that this practiced irregularity was intentional, another tactic to frazzle his already strained mind.

Either way, Surik was back for what Atton was fairly sure was her third shift with him. He'd stopped most attempts at conversation once he discovered that she viewed as nothing more than an assignment, and one that she took seriously. She was the guard on duty when he groggily awoke after the first time the Sith pumped gas into his cage to render him helpless. Despite her professional demeanor, she _almost_ managed to sound apologetic as she pointed to the flavorless nutrient bar and bottle of water left beside him, explaining that this was how mealtime would work. The captive would be knocked unconscious and his wardens would leave fresh rations while removing any waste from the previous meal. If he wanted to remain conscious he could choose to not eat or drink, though that tactic would deprive him of the limited sustenance being provided.

Which, of course, left Atton with two choices. He could continuously subject his body to the strain of the Sith's toxic gases, resulting in headaches and lost time. Or he could go without food and water, suffering the physical consequence of starvation and dehydration.

Initially, stubborn pride kept him from consuming what passed for a meal, but sheer thirst had quickly dissolved that away. Without the Force he couldn't meditate to hold his basic needs at bay, and after the first few meals, Atton actually found himself looking forward to blacking out. It was the only period in his string of endless days when he didn't have to stare forlornly at the blank walls of his cell while repeatedly acknowledging that he had no idea how to escape his current predicament.

The worst thing about Surik, at least compared to the other faceless guards, was that nothing seemed to discourage her from constantly staring at Atton. Her eyes remained glued on him even as he tried to slip into meditation despite the pounding in his temples and the wall of static replacing the Force within his mind. _Draw your fourth card and it's nine. Fourteen and nine are twenty-three. Use the minus four card and the total is nineteen..._

"So, have you discovered enlightenment and inner peace yet?"

Atton growled in frustration. "Oh, so you're feeling chatty today?"

"It's an honest question." Surik shrugged one shoulder, her expression tinged with curiosity. "You're far from first Jedi I've dealt with. And no amount of meditation has ever helped a single one of them when it mattered most."

Cracking open one eye, Atton glared at his captor. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Chuckling dryly, Surik gave him that sly half-smile. "Nothing. You're just the first Jedi who's ever had an interest in talking to me."

"Well, then maybe we can discuss the fact that I can't go anywhere or do anything in this cage, especially with this kriffing collar on, so it's alright if you stop _staring_ at me for ten kriffing minutes while I try to..." Overwhelmed with frustration and anxiety, Atton swallowed hard as he struggled to find the right words. "To focus and think… or not think. To just… clear my mind. Something. _Anything_." He was falling apart in front of the Sith despite his repeated promises to himself to keep it together. _Hold at nineteen, your opponent draws a fourth card and it's a one..._

"I'm just doing my job." Surik's face quickly grew impassive, though her voice sounded a touch wounded.

"Your _job_?" Atton asked, verging on hysteria _._ "So your job is to stand there and watch my _misery_ like some sort of holodrama?"

"You're a _Jedi_." The words were spoken simply, but with a level of venom that Surik had never before expressed or even seemed capable of. "All of you think that you're better than the rest of the galaxy, that you're too good to go to war. You preach peace because you get to sit safely in your enclaves while the rest of us bleed and suffer." She stepped forward, her pale eyes full of unrepentant bitterness. "The Jedi _deserve_ to suffer. Every single one of you."

Atton exhaled a breath that he didn't realize he was holding, subconsciously backing away from the guard. "No," he muttered, "No, it's not like that…" He had seen this same fury in thousands of other faces across the Outer Rim. War orphans and refugees. Beings who had been displaced by the Mandalorians only to watch in vain as the Jedi Council refused to step in and save what little they had left. Veterans who had hailed Revan as a hero and savior, only to feel betrayed when the Jedi general returned as a Sith conqueror set on destroying the fragile peace he had won. A thousand souls who cried out in agony as they were abandoned by the Jedi and beaten by the Sith, all without understanding that _they weren't the same thing_. "You have to understand, I'm not…"

"You're not a Jedi anymore. Right." Surik scoffed at this notion, just as she'd done every time before. "But you _were_ part of the Order during the war when my home was destroyed. When my family was killed." She narrowed her eyes accusingly, striding closer to the force cage. "I know that you weren't one of the Revanchists. So, I guess that makes you one of the cowards who hid in your temple and told Revan to stand down, to let the rest of the galaxy be slaughtered by the Mandalorians."

Wincing at the accusation, Atton couldn't summon the strength to deny it. After all, he hadn't been a Revanchist. Not that he didn't consider the possibility… Closing his eyes he could still see Bastila's face when he told her that he was thinking of leaving Coruscant and joining the war effort. At first, she had laughed, only to cover her mouth and smile apologetically. _'The Revanchists will be on the wrong side of history. Something that will be proven sooner rather than later,'_ she warned. _'And on a more practical level, what can you offer them? Your 'saber skills are passable and your Force connection is strong enough for your assignments. But in the end, there's little_ _you_ _can do on the front lines…'_

And so Atton had stayed on Coruscant, away from the dangers of war all while carrying a nagging sense of guilt that he should be doing something more. "I wanted to join Revan," he admitted softly. "But, I've always been better at hiding than fighting."

"At least you admit it." Surik seemed mollified by this, the anger fading from her voice as she gently stated, "And at least you _know_ the Jedi were wrong, as they are about so many things."

"That doesn't make the Sith _right_." Clenching his teeth, Atton lifted his chin defiantly towards his captor. "Why do you still follow Revan? Haven't you realized that you're the new conquerors? The new Mandalorians?"

Taking a step back in surprise, Surik squared her shoulders. "I followed Revan because he was the only Jedi to have the courage to stand-up to your Council and enter the war." Her expression grew colder. "And I continue to follow him because he gives me the chance to do what I'm good at."

"Keeping people locked up in cages?" Jabbing a thumb towards the electrified walls, Atton snorted. "Yeah, you deserve a commendation for your skill."

"Proving the Jedi fallible." Head tilting thoughtfully to the side, Surik studied her captive. Her eyes were wide and blue, almost soft if not for the hauntedness that echoed in their depths. "Your Order likes to think that they're better than the rest of us, paragons of the light who are above base things like emotion and attachment. But you're not." She met the Sentinel's gaze, her hands open as though presenting him with a gift. "If anything, you're more susceptible to fear and anger. But unlike the rest of us, when you experience it, you _break_."

"You don't think I kriffing know how fallible I am?" Frustration simmered cold in Atton's gut as he stared back at the Sith, shaking his head. "You think I don't realize how much of a coward I can be? Lady, I _ran away_ from the Order when Revan and Malak started attacking us!" It was the first time he'd admitted this out loud and he winced at hearing the facts laid so plainly.

Furrowing her brow skeptically, Surik only stared harder. "You expect me to believe that? A Jedi, symbol of honor and wisdom, ran away when things got hard?"

"Why else would I admit this?" Throwing his hands up in frustration, Atton glared back at his captor. "You don't have to tell _me_ how weak a Jedi can be. I already _know_. I was _never_ a particularly good Jedi."

"So then I'll ask you again," Surik said, a strange sense of open honesty painting her pretty features. "Atton Rand, in your own words, what _are_ you?"

Still seated in a meditation pose, the Sentinel stared down at his own hands for a few minutes as he contemplated everything that had happened since the Mandalorians attacked the galaxy and Revan went to war. Even with his awareness nothing but static, his chest physically ached as he recalled the ripples of pain that constantly flowed through the Force as the death toll climbed on both sides. So many people, _innocent people_ like Surik's family, had been killed and for what? Glory? Control? To prove some sort of violent and blood-soaked point? He didn't understand and he was fairly sure that he never wanted to. Instead, he merely lifted his head, meeting his captor's eyes with as much sincerity as he could muster. "Me? I'm just sorry. For everyone who died, and everything you've gone through. And for not doing more to stop it."

There were several long moments of perfect silence before Surik dropped her gaze, softly murmuring, "I don't need your sympathy, Rand. But… thanks, I guess." She offered a half-shrug before turning away from the cage and lapsing into silence for the rest of her shift, giving her captive a few rare hours of relative peace and privacy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. I know that Atton’s real name is implied to be “Jaq,” but I didn’t want to use that name throughout this story. So I flipped things - Atton Rand is the character’s real name and Jaq is the pseudonym he used on Nar Shaddaa. I also use the “canon” name of Meetra Surik for the Exile since I don’t have a preferred name in my KOTOR II games.
> 
> 2\. Of course Atton still plays pazaak, though in this universe he obviously uses it as a meditation technique to clear his mind rather than to shield it.


	3. Here As Evil Now Gropes

3.

"You know Surik, I've realized something," Atton admitted during one of the woman's many shifts. He was sitting in the middle of the cage, his legs curled up against his chest and his arms wrapped around them. An untouched portion of food and water sat beside him where it had resided since the beginning of the last guard's rotation. He looked at it from time to time, though he had no real desire to consume anything. His hunger had been waning, any need for nourishment lost somewhere in the miasma of frustration and hopelessness that constantly swirled through his head. A shiver wracked his frame. The coldness had become pervasive, though he wasn't sure if the sensation was coming from the environment or from within him.

A faint hint of worry crossed Surik's features as she arched a brow. "Oh? And what is that?"

"We're not moving. You're not taking me someplace." The resignation was thick in Atton's voice. "This… whatever _this_ is, it's not just some sort of transport protocol. It's…" His words faded to little more than a whisper. "This is my life now."

"And why did you think that you were being transported somewhere?" Morbid curiosity colored Surik's words, along with something vaguely like pity.

Atton just shook his head. "I think I always realized that we weren't moving. It doesn't take the Force to feel the rumble of ship engines through the floor. But sometimes on large ships like Hammerhead class vehicles, those vibrations can be hard to detect in rooms set far from the engines. So…" He sighed, staring blankly at the opposite wall. "So I tried to trick myself into thinking that we were going somewhere. That at some point you'd have to move me and…"

"You'd have a chance to escape?" Surik finished with a sigh. "Even if we _were_ planning to transport you, don't you think that we'd drug you to hells before removing you from a ship?"

"Probably." Atton's tone was listless even to his own ears, weary and frayed around the edges. "But it was a thought, you know? Something to look forward to." He attempted to shrug, though the gesture was more of a full-body slump. "Hope. It's a great motivator. It's… warmth on a cold night. Light in a dark cave. Hope is the first thing we cling to. The last…" Swallowing hard he mumbled, "The last thing we lose."

"So, what you're saying is that you've lost hope?" Slowly striding towards the force cage, Surik studied her captive, a flicker of something akin to sorrow passing through her pale eyes. "I guess that means you're almost there."

Blinking blankly, Atton shifted his gaze to look at the Sith. "Almost where? I thought you weren't moving me" A thin, humorless laugh escaped him. "You never did tell me what you want, or why you're holding me."

"I can't tell you what we want." Lips twisting into a frown Surik leaned forward. "If you knew what we wanted, you'd probably resist on principle. And then your mind might shatter."

"What do you care if my mind shatters? You don't care about me…" Atton assumed it was wishful thinking when his captor's head shook ever-so-slightly. Not that it mattered… His head snapped up as he was struck with a sudden realization. "So, why haven't you killed me?" Atton got that sense that he wasn't really following the flow of conversation, his own ideas twisting and straying in his exhausted mind. "I'm not a Jedi, and it's Jedi that you capture."

"It's Force users that we capture," Surik quickly clarified, a soft sigh escaping her. "And you're far more valuable to us alive than dead."

Carefully uncurling from his current position, Atton stared down at his hands, the skin looking oddly pale. His veins stood out in stark contrast, tiny lines of blackish-blue winding their way up his arms. "What if I kill myself before you get… whatever it is that you want?"

"I… I don't think you'll do that." Despite the confidence of her words, Surik's voice lacked conviction.

Atton blinked. "Because I'm a coward?"

Footsteps soft, Surik drew closer to the cage. She met her captive's gaze, her tone gentle but laced with steel. "Because you're a Jedi."

Barking out another harsh laugh, Atton looked down at his rumpled clothing, the outfit of a seasoned spacer. "I told you. I'm not a Jedi. At least, not a good one."

"Please don't do anything stupid, Rand," Surik cautioned, a sense of alarm suddenly spreading over her features. Her eyes looked especially blue as she observed him, concern flickering in their depths.

This close, the Sith's eyes were oddly soothing to Atton, pools of grey-blue that seemed so serene in contrast to the pounding of his heart and the constant _static_ that filled his head thanks to the collar. _Draw a third card, it's a five. Thirteen and five are… are… She's lovely. I noticed that right away._ The surge of attraction entwined with an unexpected burst of fondness that he felt was an odd burst of positivity in his otherwise depressing existence. Anger, fear, hopelessness, desperation, exhaustion, and frustration had all become his constant companions in captivity.

While Atton had always been prone to fits of pride and short-sightedness that frustrated his masters, he'd never felt quite like _this._ It was as though his negative emotions were smothering him, drowning his very essence and washing away his sense of self. He blinked, once again drawn by his captor's gaze. _Thirteen and five are eighteen, and always hold over sixteen unless you have a playable card in your side deck… She doesn't hate me. I've seen hate in people's eyes, but hers are different. They're curious, interested? Does she care?_ He shivered again, vigorously rubbing his arms to chase away the chill. _No, she can't care. Why would she care?_

Moving his hands seemed to bring those dark veins into sharper focus, as though they were tempting him to 'do something stupid.' The longer he watched them, the more he felt like he'd seen darker, more vivid veins decorating Malak's face soon after the general arrived back along the Outer Rim, bearing the title of Darth and wielding a red lightsaber. They were the same veins rumored to decorate the skin of Dark Jedi who served the new Dark Lords, though it was hard to confirm since the mysterious individuals hid their faces beneath balaclavas that only left their yellow eyes on display. The dark Force users began appearing after several Jedi went missing, allegedly captured by Revan and Malak's hunters…

It hit Atton all at once, a moment of realization that seized his body and sucked the air from his lungs. "You want me to fall."

Surik smiled weakly. "I never said that."

"But you did say that Jedi are fallible. Weak. Even more susceptible to negative emotions than everyone else," Atton repeated, recalling their earlier conversation. "When we give in to things like fear and anger, we break. And then we fall."

"I never said that I wanted _you_ to fall." Biting her lip, Surik jerked back slightly when she realized what she had said. Hurriedly she added, "But I can't help that Jedi are so quick to embrace the dark side when they lose hope and are left with nothing but frustration and resentment."

As though to prove the Sith correct, a heavy ball of dread began forming in Atton's stomach, radiating out until all he could feel were frigid tendrils of terror invading his system. He swallowed down the rising panic, his voice thin and shaky when he spoke. "You should have just told me that you wanted me to fall. I mean, the masters always said that I was too dismissive of the risks. Too arrogant, too prone to attachment…"

' _Be mindful, Padawan! Meditate on not only your thoughts but also your actions!'_ Master Vrook Lamar's voice echoed through Atton's head, the oft-repeated warning ringing in his ears. Even though they never said it, all of the masters had acted as though there was something ugly within the Sentinel, a festering weakness that was waiting to drag him down into darkness. Because of this, falling had always been one of his greatest fears, a terror that only intensified when the two most promising Knights in the Order returned from Unknown Space as Sith.

"I don't know who you were before, Rand," Surik admitted, moving as close to the force cage as the electricity would allow. Crouching down so that she was eye level with her prisoner she admitted, "But you're close to falling. I've seen it dozens of times before. Right now you're dangling off the edge of a cliff, holding on by your fingertips."

Atton looked up at his captor, meeting her gaze as he searched her face for any signs of a lie, but there was no twitch or glance to the side that indicated she was trying to trick him. If anything her expression was one of brutal honesty and the faintest flicker of regret.

Folding her hands together, Surik drew a slow breath. Her tone was gentle as she murmured, "All of that conflict inside of you will finally go away if you just… let yourself fall." Gaze momentarily darting to the floor, she whispered, "Things might better on the other side."

For a moment Atton closed his eyes and imagined a gaping hole in the ground, its yawning maw pitch black and ready to swallow him down. His body was dangling over the edge of the void, his nails digging desperately into the rock and dirt in an attempt to hold on. He tried to pull himself back up, but the Force and all of his strength had abandoned him, leaving him to the mercy of this endless darkness. It seemed to reach for him, beckoning him. All he had to do was stop struggling, to let go. All he had to do was fall…

"No!" Atton's eyes flew open as he lunged forward, panic gripping his heart as it hammered in his chest. "NO! If you have any pity or sympathy left, you won't let this happen!" Crawling on his knees he moved towards his captor. Balling one hand into a fist he punched the electrified wall, yelling, "You _know_ there's nothing good on the other side!"

The electricity surged through him, sending pain shooting through every nerve in his body. His limbs were on fire as his teeth clenched uncontrollably, almost hard enough to crack his molars. Through it all, he seized and jerked, flailing helplessly on the floor of the cage as he screamed out in agony. Yet, strange as it was, the pain felt _cleansing_. It focused his mind in a way that he hadn't experienced since he'd been captured. He refused to embrace it, somehow still aware that was a path to the dark side. Instead, he let it wash through him, imagining the electricity burning away some of the taint that was consuming him.

"Rand, I told you not to do anything stupid!" Surik shouted, moving to try and stop him from striking the cage, only to curse when she realized there was no way for her to reach through to the other barrier. Helpless, she watched as her captive struck the side of the cage again and again.

The pain had a strange way of focusing Atton's mind, a form of meditation that he could never have imagined in his wildest dreams. _Draw your first card, it's a seven. Your opponent draws their first card, it's a four. Draw your second card, it's a one. Seven and one are eight._ The familiar rhythm of playing pazaak soon distracted him as electricity surged through his system. The longer he played the easier it became for his mind to float above the agony he was inflicting on himself. _Your opponent draws their second car, it's a five. Four and five are nine._

As he punched the cage wall for a fourth time, Atton felt something sputter against his neck, burning his skin and sending a fresh wave of pain straight into his brain. For a moment it felt like his entire body was alight with white-hot fire, the shouts of torment freezing in his throat as his back arched off the floor. Just when he thought that he was going to black out from the electrical overload, the incessant buzzing inside of his head suddenly vanished as the Force rushed back to him in a wave of light and _power_. Almost immediately the burning discomfort faded away, his thoughts calming for the first time since he had been in Sith custody. _Draw your third card, it's a six. Eight and six are fourteen._

Breathing out a sigh of relief Atton opened his eyes, seeing his cell with his full senses for the first time. The first thing he was aware of was his own Force signature, colder and more erratic than he had ever experienced. He instinctively knew that he was touched by the dark side, but he took comfort from the fact that he wasn't completely tainted. Not enough to fall. _Breathe in. Breathe out. Your opponent draws their third card, it's a two. Nine and two are eleven._ Extending his senses outward, he used the Force to search for something, _anything_ , that might help his situation. At first, all he could feel was the sizzle of the Force cage and the blank nothingness of smooth durasteel. But then something caught his attention, a tiny pinprick of pure Force energy located right in front of him. Right where Surik was standing

Atton groaned as he dragged himself to his knees, his muscles protesting the motion even as his restored connection to the Force made him feel lighter and more alert. As his he focused his eyes, he found himself staring directly at the guard through the shimmering walls of the cage. Her eyes were wide and her mouth was hanging open slightly as she surveyed the scene with disbelief, still crouched on the floor.

"Are you kriffing insane?" Gaping at her captive, Surik quickly scrambled to her feet. "You could have stopped your heart, you idiot! And trust me when I say that we would have revived you, and it would have _hurt_."

As he studied the Sith, Atton's renewed awareness reached out in search of that source of energy, accidentally brushing against the woman's consciousness. A few stray emotions filtered through, only to vanish behind a wall of star charts and blaster pistol parts occasionally interspersed with counting the cycles of the air scrubber. In the end, the Sentinel was left with the barest of fleeting sensations. _She's worried about me. Afraid, even. She… cares if I live or die. She sensed there was something different about me when she saw me on Nar Shaddaa._ _Sensed_ _?_

At first, Atton believed that the source of the Force energy must be something on Surik's person. A lightsaber crystal, or some sort of artifact. It had to be small enough to hide in a pocket since anything larger would be visible against the bland gray of her uniform, decorated only with code cylinders denoting her rank. Now he couldn't shake the nagging suspicion that this type of energy couldn't be coming from an object, not at this intensity. Yet, the only other option was that his captor was Force-sensitive, which seemed impossible. If she had any connection to the Force, the Sith would have capitalized on it by now. At the very least, she'd be aware of his accidental intrusion into her mind. _But she_ _sensed_ _something on Nar Shaddaa…_

_Calm down and clear your mind. Reach out. Draw your fourth card, it's a six. Fourteen and six are… a perfect twenty._ Clarifying his awareness, Atton carefully examined Surik's entire being for any touch of the Force. It took a few moments but he felt it again, that same tiny bead of pure energy. As he centered his awareness he realized that he was sensing a distinct Force signature, dormant but ready to be awakened at any moment.

"No kriffing way." Blinking dumbly, Atton stared at the Sith for several long moments, his body going limp as he tried to process what he'd just learned.

"Are you okay, Rand?" Surik's brow wrinkled in obvious concern. "You look like you're about to faint."

"You're… you're Force-sensitive." And maybe Atton was feeling a little lightheaded because he did _not_ mean to blurt that information out. The second the words left his mouth he winced, cursing his own thoughtlessness.

Surik took a long step back from the cage. "I think you're hallucinating," she stated, her hand slipped into her jacket pocket and clutching something within. "Because what you're saying makes no sense."

"This is the clearest my head has been since I got here," Atton countered, still gaping in awe. "And you are definitely Force-sensitive. You just don't realize it." Atton could see his captor starting to object so he pressed on, the rest of his words tumbling forth in a nearly incoherent stream. "It's been inside of you your entire life, just waiting to wake-up… or for someone to wake it up. It's like a tiny spark right now, but just like a spark, it can grow into something bright and awe-inspiring and, yes, frightening at times. But still so incredible..."

As he spoke, Atton couldn't help but subconsciously examine that tiny point of raw power with his own awareness. It was like his own Force presence was inexplicably drawn to Surik's, desperate to awaken her tiny glimmer to its full potential. His consciousness expanded and gently enveloped the dormant connection, his own command of the Force glowing brightly and somehow igniting the spark so that it suddenly flared to life. As the Sith's newly-awakened awareness surged to meet the Sentinel's, he was surprised to note that she wasn't completely corrupted by the dark side. Yes, there was bitterness and anger, but that faint chill was nearly drowned out by a deeper sense of warmth.

Surik's new connection to the Force quickly flowed forth and infused her entire being, briefly melding with Atton's and for a heartbeat, they were both awash in each other's minds and emotions. _She knows that the collar broke, that I'm afraid, that I've always been afraid of falling. She… she's so confused. She didn't know, nobody knew. Those eyes, they're so blue. And now she's looking at me just like I'm looking at her. From the beginning she… thought I was cute? Not the time, Atton..._

Gasping in surprise, the Sith stumbled backward until her back hit the closest wall, one hand clutching the place over her heart. She blinked, mouth moving wordlessly for a moment right before she pressed whatever object was hidden within her pocket. An instant later Atton's force cage filled with yellowish-green gas, the sheer volume of it choking him until it was difficult to hear anything over the sound of his own coughing. Even as the gas obscured his vision and made it nearly impossible to see anything beyond the smothering fumes, he kept peering at his captor, cataloging her every move. The last thing he saw before his world went black was the terrified expression gracing Surik's pretty face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. In case it wasn’t clear, the item in Surik’s pocket was a panic button that filled the force cage with anesthetic gas when pressed.


	4. Echoes of Time Unfold

4.

"What did you do to me?"

Atton groggily blinked himself awake, his stomach churning and head throbbing from the lingering effects of the gas used to knock him unconscious. It left him feeling disoriented, making it difficult to tell if it had been minutes or hours since he blacked out.

"Please Atton, snap out of it!" Hands grasped the Sentinel's shoulders, shaking him ruthlessly. "You _need_ to wake up and tell me what you did!"

"Huh?" Atton gasped eloquently. He blinked again, drawing a breath as awareness gradually filtered back into his mind. The first thing he realized was that someone was manhandling him with a sense of urgency, their fingers digging into his flesh. The next thing he realized was that somehow _someone was touching him_.

Biting back another groan, Atton glanced around in an attempt to gauge what exactly was happening. While his metal cell was still overly illuminated and completely barren, the familiar shimmer of the force cage was gone. That would explain how someone was able to make physical contact. He lifted his head, the sound of frantic panting filling one ear as someone's hot breath blew across his cheek. As he regained focused he was able to discern the identity of the face now pressed against above his own. It was Surik, her blue eyes wide and her normally-sleek ponytail unusually mussed.

Before Atton could speak, a slender hand lashed out and slapped his jaw with a sharp crack, the impact stinging his skin and snapping him fully awake. "Ow!" he yelled, rubbing his reddening flesh. "What was that for?"

"Sorry, but you weren't waking up!" A mixture of concern and impatience filled Surik's budding Force signature, mingling with a cold stream of fear. "I need you awake so that you can tell me what you did!"

"I'm awake, I'm awake!" Atton yelped, attempting to take a step back despite the hands still holding him in place. "Let me go and we can talk."

Surik released the Sentinel in a flurry of movement, practically throwing him to the ground as she began to pace the tiny cell, her eyes darting around suspiciously. She nervously chewed on her bottom lip as she watched her captive, her gaze cataloging his every move. "Alright, talk!"

"Err," his head still slightly foggy from the gas and the abrupt wake-up, Atton scrubbed his palm over his face. "What did you want me to say, again?"

Pausing mid-stride, Surik growled in frustration as she turned to the man and grit out, "Tell. Me. What. You. Did!"

Pausing to massage his temple, Atton winced. What exactly _had_ he done? He remembered that he accidentally disabled his collar, which had restored his connection to the Force and enabled him to sense the Sith's latent Force sensitivity. And then he somehow… awakened the Force within her. Which, in retrospect, was probably as bad an idea as holding on a fifteen in pazaak when your opponent still had a full side deck.

"I, er, I'm actually not sure how to explain what I did," Atton admitted. "All I know is that the Force was dormant inside of you. Asleep. And I… woke it up."

"Then put it back to sleep." Surik's hands balled into fists at her sides, her voice terse. "Better yet, get it out of me."

"Lady, that's not how it works." Shaking his head, Atton chuckled. "Once you become aware of your own Force sensitivity you can learn to rein it in or cloak its presence. But you can never get _rid_ of it. The Force is always a part of you, as integral as breathing."

A sharp whine escaped Surik's throat and she glared pleadingly at the Sentinel. "But I can feel _everything_! The people on this base and the animals around it and..."

"Yeah, that's the Force for you." Nodding knowingly, Atton tried to keep his tone soothing. "It's life and death, the flow of the stars and the heartbeat of planets. It's the web that ties the galaxy together, a single stream that flows through every living thing. It's beautiful."

"It _hurts._ "

Atton had never heard the Force described as 'painful' before, but he supposed that suddenly and unexpectedly becoming aware of its existence on some type of Sith military base used to imprison and torture Force-sensitive individuals might cause that effect. "The pain you're feeling? It's because of this _place_. It's from the prisoners here and whatever else ties this location to the dark side."

Stepping forward, Surik reached out and grabbed her captive's shoulders, her grip more gentle than before. "I don't _care_ what's causing it. I just want it to stop." Her hands slid up to desperately cup the man's cheeks. "You made this happen so please, just _fix it._ "

"Like I told you, I can't just _make_ the Force recede inside of you." Voice apologetic, Atton shook his head against the Sith's palms. "That's something you might be able to learn over time, with training."

"I don't _have_ time!" Surik cried plaintively, her teeth clenched and her terror a cold torrent around her. "Fix it now or we're _both_ in trouble!"

_Draw your first card, it's a two. Your opponent draws their first card, it's a nine._ Breathing slowly, Atton cleared his mind and tried to stay calm while assessing the situation. While suddenly discovering herself to be Force-sensitive might be enough to cause Surik's unadulterated dread, he sensed that there was more to the situation. The source of the emotion seemed to run deeper, a horror born of personal experience.

"I can't 'fix' anything," Atton finally explained. "Especially since I'm not entirely sure what I did!"

"What?!" Surik's eyes went wide and her hands fell away, hanging limply at her sides as she stared numbly at her prisoner. "But, you're a Jedi! You're supposed to know these things!"

Offering a guilty smile that felt more like a grimace, Atton responded, "I'm not a Master. There's a lot about the Force that I don't know."

A faint shiver ran through Surik's body, passing over her shoulders and down her torso until she was trembling uncontrollably. She drew a breath in an attempt to steady herself, one hand reaching to touch the blaster pistol holstered at her hip. "Then we might as well both be dead." Without another word she drew the weapon, thumbing off the safety with practiced efficiency as she aimed the muzzle at her captive.

"Hey, woah! Wait a second!" Atton yelped as he threw both hands into the air. "We can figure this out. Nonviolently, might I add!"

"You don't understand," Surik mumbled, her voice full of feral panic. "This is better, _far_ better, than the other option. Because when Revan and Malak find out..."

"Find out what?" Still holding his arms aloft, Atton attempted to remain calm. "That you're Force-sensitive?"

"That I'm… this." Surik's words shook as she nodded to the Sentinel. "And that you woke it up inside of me."

"Really? I'd think that the Dark Lords would be _happy_ to have another Force-user at their disposal." Atton shuddered a little at the thought. "Though I don't see what this has to do with me."

Slowly shaking her head, Surik stared worriedly at Atton. "You don't understand, Rand! The Dark Jedi who serve the Dark Lords aren't born like that. _Nobody_ is! No, they're _created._ "

"By causing Jedi to fall. Yes." Atton couldn't help but roll his eyes. "I've _noticed._ "

"Not just fall." Surik lowered her gaze for a moment, though the pistol remained steady in her hands. "Making a Jedi fall is easy enough, you don't even have to hurt them. Just offer them forbidden knowledge while telling them that it will help the galaxy at large. Get them to reach for the dark side in a moment of curiosity. Falling like that, it's a quiet thing."

Using one finger to gesture around the small cell, Atton wondered, "So, then what do you call all of _this_?"

Surik looked into the Sentinel's eyes, her expression apologetic even as she continued pointing the weapon at him. "We don't just make Jedi fall. We _break_ them. We crush their will until they don't just fall to the dark side, they're consumed by it. For them, there's no way back to the light."

The image of the gaping void reaching out to swallow him whole flashed through Atton's memories, joined by the sensation that tiny tendrils of ice and shadow were still tugging at the darkest recesses of his mind. He swallowed hard. "Oh."

"Yeah, 'oh.'" A nearly-hysterical laugh escaped Surik. "When the Dark Lords find out that I'm… like _you_ , they'll put me in one of these cells and torture me the same way I tortured you. Worse, maybe. I didn't live my entire life with the Force in my head, so I'll probably be harder to break."

For a moment Atton wanted to point out that maybe his captor deserved to experience just a taste of the pain and suffering that she had inflicted on others. Maybe the Force did believe in justice, albeit in a roundabout way. But he couldn't bring himself to be that cruel. _'My home was destroyed… my family was slaughtered. I followed Revan because he was the only Jedi to have the courage to stand-up to your Council and enter the war.'_ In the end, this woman was just another victim of an unjust war who put her trust in the military when she had nothing left. A trust that had caused her to be corrupted by whatever taint Revan and Malak brought back from Unknown Space.

"As for you," The Sith jerked the blaster at her prisoner, causing him to wince. "After they learn that you're the one to… awaken me, they'll make you do it to others. Or they'll just use us against each other to break us even faster. It doesn't matter. Either way, you'll become another weapon in their arsenal."

The very thought made Atton's blood run cold, though he did what he could to release his fear and focus his attention on the problem at hand. _Draw your second card, it's a five. Two and five are seven._ "Surik, put the pistol down," he urged, carefully keeping all traces of Force persuasion out of his voice. "We can figure this out together."

"No… No. I can't let them do this to me. To us…" With a quickness honed from years of training, the guard flipped the blaster around so that the muzzle was pressed beneath her own chin, her finger hovering over the trigger.

Desperate to defuse the increasingly hopeless situation, Atton jerked his arm forward and sent out a wave of Force energy, using it to yank the pistol from the Surik's hands. When she realized what was happening she tried to tighten her grip, but surprise delayed her reaction time. The weapon crashed to the ground with a loud clatter, skittering across the smooth floor until it was a meter away from either human. For a moment the pair's eyes met, and then they were both diving for the object at the same time. The Sith had a look of utter determination on her face, but the Sentinel was just a little faster thanks to a subtle burst of speed from the Force. His palm closed over the cool metal grip and he picked up the blaster, holding it a bit awkwardly as he quickly scrambled to his feet.

Without a second thought, Atton flipped on the safety, neatly stowing the pistol in the waistband of his pants as he rushed over to Surik who was now slumped dejectedly on the floor. Reaching out he placed a gentle finger under her chin, urging her to look at him. She did so reluctantly, unshed tears shining in her eyes. "Hey, it's going to be okay," the Sentinel insisted, even though he didn't quite believe his own words.

"It's not. I've seen what they do. I've done…" Another shiver ran through Surik's body and she blinked, the tears now running down her round cheeks. "I've done terrible things."

Atton could feel the regret that seeped out of his captor, the emotion almost thick enough to disguise the rest of her presence. _She can feel the ramifications of her past mistakes through the Force. The pain that echoes through this place and radiates outward._ "I'm not going to lie and say those were good things," he stated, releasing a strained chuckle. "But at least you admit that what you've done is wrong. And besides," he smiled a little as he used the pad of his thumb to wipe away a tear. "No matter what you've done, you don't deserve to be tortured. _Nobody_ does."

Drawing a shaky breath, Surik attempted to collect herself, sniffing back her sobs. "What difference does that make? It doesn't change the fact that we're in danger…"

"If we're in danger, we should leave," Atton finally declared.

Blinking back her surprise, Surik sputtered, "What? It's not like we can just… go!"

"Why not?" Grinning, Atton placed a comforting hand on the woman's shoulder before shrugging curiously. "I don't know what this base looks like, but I'm sure we can steal a speeder or a ship or something. You seem clever enough."

"But I can't just…" Swiping the back of her hand over her eyes, Surik exhaled heavily. "And even if I could, what are _you_ going to do? I might be able to walk out of here, but you're..." She made a general gesture to the Sentinel's worn clothing.

"So, make it look like I belong." Atton offered the idea like it was the simplest thing in the galaxy.

"How?"

"You know this place better than I do." Gesturing between the pair, Atton added, "Can you disguise me as a Dark Jedi or steal a guard uniform or something?"

"I can't just _steal_ a random uniform!" Surik insisted, even as her expression grew thoughtful. "Unless…"

"See, you're already getting ideas!" With a nod of encouragement, Atton explained, "And I… Let's just say that I did a lot of covert work for the Order. I'd sneak in somewhere, slice a computer or steal a datapad, and get out without being noticed."

Surik's brows arched in surprise. "That sounds oddly clandestine. I thought the Jedi were peacekeepers."

"Sometimes peacekeeping requires information." Waving away the subject, Atton pressed on. "Anyway, that's not the point. You know the location, and I have a pretty useful set of skills… plus, I'm not a bad pilot. If we work together, I think we can get out of here alive."

"And you're just going to trust me?" Looking down at herself for a moment, Surik's tone became quieter. "The person who tortured you for the past week?"

"A week!?" Atton blurted out. "It's only been a… Nevermind." Leaning over, he pressed their foreheads together until they were almost touching, letting his Force presence move and dance around her own. "I've seen you in the Force, I've _felt_ you. And I know that you're not an inherently cruel person. So yes, for now, I trust you."

There was a moment of consideration from Surik, and then, "Why are you helping me?"

"Like I said, nobody deserves torture at the hands of the Sith. Especially not someone who was dragged into this because they lost everything else. Someone who only became the villain because they were tired of being the victim." As he looked into his former captor's eyes, Atton felt her Force presence flare with hope. "At this point, we're each other's only chance at escaping. I think we're in this together."

Sniffling awkwardly, Surik managed a weak laugh. Raising her head up she patted the Sentinel's cheek before drawing back. "Yeah. I guess you're stuck with me."

Arrogantly cocking a brow, Atton quipped, "More like we're stuck with each other."

"Alright." Surik nodded. "I can live with that. Anyway, I think I have a few ideas…"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Meetra’s comment that, “Falling like that, it’s a quiet thing,” is obviously a reference to Kreia’s in-game dialogue.
> 
> 2\. If Atton seems a little quick to trust Meetra, remember two things - The first is that canon Atton fell in love with the Jedi who connected him to the Force. The second is that canon Meetra innately forms Force bonds with others, enabling her to influence them subconsciously.


	5. Follow Us into the Black

5.

_Your opponent draws their first card and it's a three. You draw your second card, it's a four. Eight and four are twelve… Shit. This had better work or we're both kriffed._ As he shook his head to clear his negativity, Atton saw Surik subtly narrow her eyes at him. While he didn't know the cause, he had a feeling that she accidentally overheard his moment of doubt despite his mental shields. Normally this would be surprising, but in the short time they'd been working together he realized that they slipped into each other's minds with unusual ease as though they were linked by the Force. Unfortunately, there was no time to test this theory.

The pair had less than an hour to strategize their escape, mainly because the start of their plan centered around the guards changing shifts. Their first step put Atton back behind the electrified walls of the force cage, something that had pushed his burgeoning trust in Surik to its limit. While he _had_ agreed to put his faith in his former captor, nothing could make him forget that she was still a Sith. He was waiting for the inevitable betrayal even as she shot her replacement (with her blaster on stun, as per the Sentinel's request) and removed all weapons and communication devices from the now-unconscious human. It was only when she let down the walls of the cage that the Atton began to believe that _yes_ , they were in this _together._

A few minutes later the guard had been stripped, redressed in Atton's old clothing, bound, gagged, and locked in the force cage for good measure. It wasn't a solution that would hold up to scrutiny should anyone look closely at the security feed, but it allowed the pair to move past the cell block without appearing suspicious. Now Atton found himself dressed in a stolen Sith uniform, striding down the hallways of a Sith base with his former Sith captor as his only ally. The Force definitely had a sense of humor.

Jerking her head to the left, Surik turned at the junction in the hallway, her shoulders squared and her gaze trained straight ahead. It was a stance that Atton did his best to copy even though his instinct was to creep along the walls and quietly slip around people rather than marching directly past. He must have been doing a passable job since nobody seemed to give him a second glance despite the fact that his uniform was a less-than-perfect fit. Surik jerked her head again and the pair turned, this time to the right, as they wound their way out of what was apparently called the Trayus Academy.

The dark side permeated every inch of the building, coldness seeping from its very foundation and chilling Atton to the bone. His recent brush with his own darkness was still fresh in his mind and he could hear the gentle whisper of the power that this place held. It beckoned to him, asking him to draw upon its offering. While he had to admit that the lure was tempting, his own practicality kept him from giving in. He didn't need power right now, he needed subtlety. Shielding his mind and drawing his presence close was more useful than shooting lightning at every Sith within a ten-foot radius.

_Your opponent draws their second card, it's a three. Three and three are six. You draw your third card, it's a seven. Twelve and seven are nineteen._ Atton also had a feeling that his ability to shield his thoughts was helping to hold the dark side at bay. He could only hope that Surik's specialized training helped her do the same.

The former guard suddenly paused at the end of the long hallway, her head tilting curiously to the side as though listening for something. Confusion creased her brow, her pale eyes darting from side to side. _Is she lost?_ Atton reached out a wisp of his awareness, gently gauging the emotions of the woman at his side. Curiosity tinged her Force signature, as did an underlying sense of dread, though the exact source was unclear. _She's not lost, she senses something. Probably through the Force._

The next moment a series of alarms began blaring, red lights flashing along all of the walls as a mechanical voice came over the speaker system. "Warning! Escaped prisoner! All units to your stations. Warning! Escaped prisoner! All units to your stations."

"Just keep walking. Go with the flow," Surik whispered as she inclined her head towards Atton. "The central room of the academy is down the next hallway and it leads directly to the only exit."

Atton could only nod, his heart pounding in his chest even as he managed to keep his breathing regulated. He didn't dare speak as he followed his former captor down the indicated corridor, lights and sirens blaring all around them. Luckily, their speed was improved by Surik shouldering her way past every Sith they encountered with a brusque glare and a lingering hand on her blaster. Despite the journey only being a matter of meters, it felt like an eternity had passed by the time they reached a large, ornate door.

Just as Surik moved to push the handle Atton grabbed her wrist, a cold chill of warning tingling its way down his spine. "Stop! I have a bad feeling about this."

"What?" Surik paused, desperation painting her features. "No, come on! We have to keep moving."

Carefully drawing his stolen pistol, Atton grimaced at the inelegant feel of the weapon. "Fine, just have your blaster ready," he warned.

Surik followed this advice, drawing her own sidearm as she cautiously pushed the door open. At first, the large, cavernous room felt empty, their footsteps echoing against the high ceiling as they slowly crept forward. An instant later a wave of Force energy struck Atton, dark and cold, knocking the breath from his lungs as it pinned him in place. Four crimson blades suddenly illuminated the space with a vicious _snap-hiss_ as two cowled figures melted out from the shadows.

"Officer Surik," one of the Dark Jedi snarled. "The Dark Lords expected better of you."

"When we sensed betrayal within the Force, we did not expect it to be _you,_ " a second, more feminine tone purred. "Still, did you truly believe that you could escape from this academy?"

"Out of my way," Surik growled, her weapon still raised even though her arms appeared frozen by the Force. "I won't ask you twice."

The taller of the two figures laughed, even as concentration strained his features. "It's subtle, you hide it well. But I can sense what this Jedi did to you. What he awakened inside of you." He twirled his double-bladed lightsaber thoughtfully. "Even so, you may have been able to escape alone. It's a shame that you made a tactical error."

Frowning deeply, the slenderer of the pair studied Surik. "Why did you bring the Jedi with you when fled? You must have realized that he was a liability, that even with his mental walls he stands out among the darkness of Malachor Five."

Inhaling deeply, the male Dark Jedi continued to stare at the former guard with the same intense focus. "You shield your mind well, but… ah. I see it now. You were… worried about him?" He took a menacing step forward. "You… care for him?"

Squinting her eyes as she fought the mental intrusion, Surik let out a grunt of pain even as the rest of her remained frozen in place. Her expression was stoic despite the accusations, though her Force presence betrayed her when it briefly flared with a mixture of guilt and the faintest thread of genuine affection.

"You? Caring for a Jedi?" The lithe female sneered at the very notion. "You, who gets so much pleasure from hunting Jedi? Who feels such satisfaction at watching them fall? Who has all-but perfected the art of weakening and breaking your quarry?" Anger cascaded around her. "You care for _this_?"

Atton jerked his head up, clenching his jaw defiantly. "Hey, I'm not a 'this' thank-you-very-much!"

"His light and foolish ideals have already infected her," the taller Dark Jedi explained. "But it's not too late. She can be brought around."

"Yes, I sense it. Her anger and hatred." The black-robed woman hissed as she fought to access Surik's thoughts. "They are tools to bring her into the dark. To mold her into what the Dark Lords need."

"You're not molding either of us into anything!" Atton tried to keep his tone light. "At least, not without a decent dinner, maybe some drinks and a holo-show. Then we can see where the night takes us..."

Two pairs of yellow eyes turned to glare at the Sentinel, both lightsabers simultaneously swinging into an offensive position. " _You!_ " the more slender Force-user screeched. "We will _break you_ if it is the last thing we do!"

Struggling against the Force bonds preventing his movement, Atton drew a breath and focused his energy. _Your opponent draws their second card, it's an eight. Eight and six are fourteen._ While he couldn't do much with his arms contained, he could still protect himself from whatever attack was surely coming. And at this point, guarding his mind was probably more important than shielding his body.

The triple shriek of blaster fire surprised all of the Force users, though not as much as the three bolts that went soaring through the air. Two of them managed to pierce the taller of the Dark Jedi, hitting him in the shoulder and causing him to stumble back. His grip on his lightsaber faltered.

Surik didn't waver as she strode forward with a good soldier's unshakable determination, all while yelling. "I told you that I wouldn't ask twice!"

An instant later Atton felt the Force bonds drop away and he quickly crouched down to make himself a smaller target. Raising his blaster, he tried to line up a shot, only to shake his head at his own stupidity. _Really, what am I going to do with this thing against two Dark Jedi? Throw it at them? Actually…_ Grinning to himself, Atton jumped to his feet and drew back his arm, flinging the blaster through the air directly at the slenderer of their opponents. "Hey ugly! Catch!" he called, purposely belated, as he used the Force to add distance and power to his throw.

The blaster managed to strike its target directly in the chest, clearly knocking the wind from her lungs and throwing off her footing. She recovered quickly, but not before Atton circled around her back with a burst of Force-enhanced speed. Summoning his power he gave her a strong push, this time managing to sweep her legs out from under her. The Dark Jedi hit the ground just as Surik came charging by, her movements fluid and practiced as she lightly danced around her opponent. The Sentinel dashed to the side as he took a moment to gauge the situation, considering his next move.

While Surik was on the shorter side of average and not terribly brawny, there was still something remarkably intimidating about her presence. Her every action was carefully calculated as she kept out of lightsaber range while constantly peppering her opponent with short bursts of blaster fire. _She's a Jedi hunter_ , Atton reminded himself. _She knows how to keep a Force user too distracted to summon their powers_. The Sentinel briefly considered the tactic but was interrupted as the female Dark Jedi leaped to her feet. The black-robed woman immediately dove at him, her 'saber whirring as she struck repeatedly.

While Atton was able to duck and dodge the hits thanks to his Force-enhanced reflexes, it wasn't a method that he could rely upon for long. He was already tiring, his muscles underused from his week in captivity. "Woah there!" He cautioned, rolling to the ground and narrowly avoiding a blow to the leg. "Don't you think that your Lords would like me in one piece?"

"Lord Malak is missing his jaw," the woman stated coldly. "Do you think he minds if his operatives are missing a limb or two?"

"Fair enough," Atton quipped, crawling crab-like away from his attacker. "I was just, you know, checking!"

The shriek of blaster fire was getting closer again, and Atton was climbing to his feet when he managed to catch a glimpse of Surik repeatedly shooting her opponent in the right arm. Each shot was made with surgical precision. The Dark Jedi grunted in pain and frustration, his rage building every time his target managed to slip beyond his reach. With a primal howl, he lashed out, wrapping the Force around his adversary's throat. Clenching his hand into a fist he proceeded to choke the life out of the former guard, dragging the woman to her knees.

A spark of protectiveness flared in Atton's chest as he watched Surik choking and he abandoned what little self-preservation he had left as he tumbled away from a slash aimed at his torso. Rolling awkwardly to his feet he ran a few paces before using the Force to propel him into a leap. His trajectory wasn't perfect, but at least he had a big target when he landed in a rough tackle on the back of the male Dark Jedi. They both collapsed into a tangled heap, with the Sentinel punching and kicking anything that moved. This seemed to break the hold on Surik, who coughed and sputtered as she clambered upright.

"Get off of me you _mongrel!_ " The dark Force user roared, surging to his feet in a wave of cold energy.

Atton was tossed onto his back from the momentum, only to be unceremoniously thrown into a nearby wall by a secondary Force push from the other Dark Jedi. "Hey," he protested weakly from where he lay on the floor. "I've been told that I'm full-blooded Alderaanian."

"Rand, the door!" Surik shouted a moment before she executed an impressive high kick that struck the male Dark Jedi in the wrist with enough strength to dislocate the joint. _Was that… Echani martial arts?_

Blinking to regain his focus, Atton glanced to his side and noted that a large, intricately carved door was only about a meter away. Unfortunately, the female Force-user was even closer and gaining fast. "Dammit," he muttered, preparing to dodge another series of lightsaber strikes.

Desperation crackled through the Force, Surik's voice high and frantic as she called, "Just catch this and _open the kriffing door!_ "

Instinctively shooting out a hand to summon whatever item was being thrown at him, Atton was shocked to feel the textured hilt of a lightsaber landing in his palm. It was heavier than his own 'saber, mainly due to the longer length and additional parts needed to house the lenses and emitters for two identical blades. Powering up the double-bladed weapon he internally winced at the bright red color but didn't have time to think about it further as the female Dark Jedi descended upon him, her own weapon a whirling circle of death and destruction. It was only muscle memory that enabled the Sentinel to block the first hit, though he quickly found himself reconnecting to the feel of two blades.

"So, the Jedi thinks he knows Jar'Kai," the Dark Jedi taunted.

"Funny story…" Atton began, a grin splitting his face as the oh-so-familiar motions of dual-bladed Sorusu came back to him in a rush. This was actually his preferred weapon, though he usually carried a single blade because it was far easier to conceal in covert situations.

The red blades hummed and whirred as they clashed, sizzling each time the hot plasma made contact. The Dark Jedi was more aggressive in her style, but Atton had patience on his side. He just needed to reach the door and open it, that was all. And if he had to hold off an opponent the entire time, so be it. He could do that, he could keep fighting just a little bit longer. Slowly moving backward, being sure to keep his footing even and steady, he parried two hard thrusts aimed at his chest as he felt for the door through the Force. _Two more steps. One!_ Pressing his palm against the carved surface he searched for a knob or a handle, anything to escape this academy and be that much closer to freedom. But there was nothing, the door lacked any noticeable control panel or latching mechanism.

A scream echoed through the cavernous room, pain shooting through the Force and temporarily clouding Atton's mind. Without thinking he hunched forward, partially bowled over by the sensation. It was a lucky move, enabling him to avoid a fierce chop that would have taken off an arm if it made contact. As it was, the Dark Jedi missed, causing her to stumble forward as one of her blades cut through the door. Seeing an opening, the Sentinel dove down and slashed at his opponent's thighs, literally cutting her off at the legs. As she fell, yowling in agony, Atton flipped the lightsaber around and stabbed her straight through the head, ending her life.

There was no time to meditate on what just happened because the next instant he was running towards the sound of the scream, the room now strangely silent. Frantically looking around he saw that Surik was suspended in the air, clearly unconscious, one leg dangling at an unnatural angle. The remaining Dark Jedi was slowly tightening his fist, probably cutting off the last of the air that she needed to live. The sight sent panic through Atton, making it difficult to think rationally.

"Hey, bantha-brain! Over here!" Waving his pilfered lightsaber through the air, he winced as the clearly-enraged man turned to look directly at him. "Wanna fight a real Jedi?"

_Bad idea!_ Atton thought to himself as electricity sparked along the Dark Jedi's fingertips. He barely had time to throw himself to the ground as lightning arced towards him, striking the floor exactly where his body had been. Still clutching the lightsaber, he jumped to his feet and raced away as quickly as the Force would carry him. Bolt after bolt of purple lightning followed, charring the floor and making the air thick with ozone. _Krif, he's going to break something important. Like my head! Or maybe…_

Sprinting towards the door, Atton slashed his 'saber blades challengingly. "Come on, can't you actually hit me?" he taunted, grinning roguishly all the while. Another bolt of lightning came soaring through the air and he just managed to duck down before it struck, the electricity hitting the door and crumbling the stone into fine particles. _Well, it's open!_

"Get over here and _fight_ me, Jedi!" the cowled figure ordered. "Or are you too scared to face someone wielding the rage granted by the dark side?"

"There is no emotion," Atton countered. "Only peace." _You hold at nineteen. Your opponent draws their fifth card, it's a seven. Fourteen and seven are twenty-one._

The Force-user scoffed as he reached towards the Sentinel, balling his hand into a fist as an invisible force wrapped around Atton's throat. He gasped and reached up to claw at the sensation, but there was nothing tangible to pry from his neck. His lungs burned for air and his vision started to get fuzzy around the edges.

"Foolish Jedi, peace is a lie. There is only pass…" The words died on the Dark Jedi's tongue, a trickle of blood running down the corner of his mouth as a crimson bubble burst through his lips. He coughed wetly before collapsing to one knee, blinking in disbelief as he finally tumbled forward. The large knife that protruded out of his back was impressive, as was the fact that it had been stabbed straight through his heart.

Surik wheezed as she swayed on her feet, limping forward and reaching down to yank her weapon out of the dead Force user. She wiped the blade on his black robes before sheathing it back on her belt. "Krif all of that Jedi and Sith shit," she grumbled. A moment later she yelped in pain, her bad leg collapsing under her.

Atton powered down the lightsaber and shoved it into his belt as he ran to Suirk. Crouching down beside her he carefully drew her close as he checked for further injuries. While she had some bruises and more than a few burns, overall she seemed to be in one piece aside from the bad break in her leg. "You're okay," he assured her, breathing out a sigh of relief. "The leg? We can fix that."

"Of course I'm okay," Surik smirked, her fingers gently brushing a few stray strands of hair from Atton's forehead. "It'll take a lot more than that to keep me down."

For a moment, Atton didn't want to move. He just wanted to sit there on the ground, holding this brave, tough, slightly terrifying woman in his arms for just a moment longer as he savored being alive. Yet, it was her insistent tug on his shoulder that drew him back to reality.

"Come on," Surik murmured as she used her companion as a living crutch to hoist herself to her feet. "We need to get the hells out of here." She sucked in a sharp breath as she applied weight to her injured leg, but stood firm.

Slinging an arm around the woman's waist, Atton used the Fore to help her balance. As he drew her a bit closer, worry suddenly wormed its way through the heady adrenalin rush of battle. "Do you think we can make it to a ship?"

"We've made it this far, we have to try," Surik responded, jaw set. But the next moment she was chuckling softly, a smile slowly creeping across her lips. It wasn't her sly half-smile, but a real and genuine expression of mirth. She glanced over her shoulder, eyeing the dead Force users as she sarcastically asked, "Why, did you want to turn back?"

It was probably the first time that Atton had actually seen her smile, and the expression lit up her face. It was infectious, and he felt himself grinning back. Looking around at the carnage and the ruined door, he shook his head. "No. No, I _definitely_ don't want to turn back."

Surik nodded, breathing hard as she hobbled on her broken leg and leaned a little harder on the offered shoulder. "Then we keep going forward."

They walked on in silence, carefully picking their way over the fallen Dark Jedi until they reached the remains of the door. Atton was about to guide them through the rough hole blasted into the stone when he noticed his companion's eyes lingering on something behind them. "Problem?

"No," Surik gestured to something metallic, almost lost among a pile of black robes. "Just, grab that lightsaber."

Even as he used the Force to retrieve the fallen hilt, Atton wondered, "Why?"

With an amused shrug, Surik responded, "You never know when it might be useful."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. I have no idea what Atton’s rank within the Republic or the Sith was, so “Officer” seemed like a good, generic choice for Meetra.
> 
> 2\. I have, in fact, walked on a broken foot for a week. So it’s entirely possible for Meetra to stumble around on a broken leg, though it would be admittedly painful.


	6. Promise You Won't Let Go

6.

Unsurprisingly, the path to the outdoor landing pad where the Sith kept their vehicles was pure chaos. It took all of Atton's concentration to keep both himself and Surik upright as he used his stolen lightsaber to deflect the blaster bolts being shot at them from all directions. For her part, the former Sith was doing a surprisingly good job limping along, using her budding Force connection to move quickly despite the pain. As she hobbled forward she took shots with her blaster, picking off adversaries with impressive precision.

"Where'd you learn to shoot like that?" Atton asked, panting as they continued their slow march towards an escape craft.

Taking aim, Surik took down another Sith about five meters away. "Oh, you know. Dxun, Duros, here and there."

Internally wincing at the references, Atton considered apologizing when he felt a faint ripple of amusement in the Force. _Oh. She's not bothered by those memories_.

There was no time to dwell on the subject since it seemed like the Sith were starting to lose patience. Reaching out his Force awareness, the Sentinel could feel more Force signatures moving closer, all of them seeped in the frigid energy that permeated every inch of the planet. "More Dark Jedi incoming," he warned.

Surik only nodded, remaining close enough to guard her companion's back while still staying out of range of the double-bladed lightsaber he was using to protect them from the worst of the blaster fire. Nodding towards a small shuttle parked nearby, she angled herself so that she could cover the space leading up to the landing ramp. "You said that you're a pilot right? Run ahead and get that ship started!"

At a glance, Atton could tell that the _Conductor_ -class craft was the closest vehicle small enough to be manned by two people while still having the hyperdrive necessary to carry them to safety. Unfortunately, it was still at least 10 meters away, too far for someone with a broken leg to run without backup. He shook his head. "I'm not leaving you!"

"I'll be right behind you," Surik assured her companion, offering him a thin smile as she lined up her next shot. Even as she spoke a ripple of dishonesty colored her words. Around her, there was nothing but fear that was slowly being overwhelmed with a grim sense of acceptance. It was similar to the wave of peace that was rumored to overcome light side Force users who were preparing themselves for death.

_She's not going to follow me, she doesn't think she can make it._ Glancing around, Atton noted the half-dozen Sith firing at them, his awareness informing him that they were as steadfast in their resolve as his companion. _She thinks they'll kill her, but I bet they won't. They probably plan to take her alive._

"You're not going to follow me, are you?" Atton whispered, already knowing the answer as he stepped closer to his former captor. "Don't lie, I can feel it in the Force."

"Both of us aren't going to make it to the shuttle, not with my leg like this." Surik's tone was clipped and formal, her eyes looking everywhere but at her companion. "You're in better shape and you're..." She let the thought _'a better person'_ hang in the air between them.

"Doesn't matter what you think. We're in this together, remember?" Powering the lightsaber down, Atton rushed over to the former Sith. Without warning, he looped an arm around her waist and pulled her against his side. "That means you're coming with me to that shuttle."

Grunting in protest, Surik managed to get off her shot. It went wide, causing her to scowl at the Sentinel. "And how is that supposed to happen?"

"Easy," Atton replied as he drew a slow breath. "Just hang on tight and uh, hope this works."

"Rand! What…?!" Letting out an indignant yelp as she was physically lifted off the ground, Surik lost the rest of her words in the blur of speed that encompassed the pair. Without another option she wrapped her arms around he companion, clinging to his torso as she buried her face against his neck.

Atton had never tried carrying another person with his Force-enhanced speed before and while it sounded easy in theory, it was far more taxing than he expected. His former captor was heavier than she looked, years of physical training and exertion packing hard muscle onto her lean frame. After only a meter or so he could feel himself tiring as his power waned. _Calm down and focus, you can do this. Your opponent draws their second card, it's a two. Six and two are eight. You draw your third card, it's a five. Nine and five are fourteen._

Panting with the exertion, Atton kept running forward through the barrage of blaster bolts the Sith were firing. He could feel their heat nipping at his heels as he swerved to miss a shot aimed at his legs. Maneuvering for two people was definitely awkward, especially since he had to use one arm to support Surik. At the same time, the feeling of her warm breath against his neck was a comforting presence that helped bolster him, even though it tickled slightly. _Just keep running_. Legs pumping, he felt his heart speed-up when he saw the landing ramp less than a meter away.

The triumph of the moment was quickly quelled when a dark-robed figure flipped through the air and landed in front of the escaping duo. Caught off guard, Atton was forced to skid to an abrupt halt to avoid running directly into the Dark Jedi now blocking his path. Surik managed to hang on for the jolting stop, though she still let out a whimper of agony when she landed on her injured leg. Her pale gaze was furious as she stared at the new assailant, frustration radiating off her at being so close and yet so far from freedom.

Eerily silent beneath their cowl, the Dark Jedi ignited their single lightsaber with a methodical flick of their wrist, cold ripples of Force energy crashing around them in torrents. Their power was much greater than the pair Atton and Surik had faced inside, the implication causing the Sentinel to shudder. He had always been decent enough with a 'saber, better at deflecting bolts than dueling, but when faced with an opponent who wielded pure mastery of the Force he was always outmatched. Still, he couldn't back down. Exhaling heavily, he powered on his stolen lightsaber just as Surik raised her blaster.

"Things didn't end well for the last people who stood in my way," the former guard warned menacingly, her presence growing colder with anger.

"I am not like the last people you faced," the Dark Jedi responded ominously as their sheer strength in the Force flowed around them, a wave of icy fury that reached out and engulfed Atton before he had a chance to react. "You will not be getting away from me."

There was barely enough time for the Sentinel to turn his head to the side and glance at his companion before he was pulled to the ground and frozen in place, his lightsaber powering down even though the hilt was trapped in his clenched fist. A heavy pressure wrapped around his chest, squeezing the air from his lungs and preventing him from drawing a breath. Surik looked as shocked at Atton felt, her eyes going wide as her gaze darted between her adversary and her companion who was pinned helplessly to the ground with the Force. No matter how hard Atton struggled he couldn't move, leaving him at the mercy of the suffocating bonds tightening around him. He tried to gasp, but that only made him more lightheaded.

"Let him go and you can have me," Surik shouted, but her tone lacked its former bravado.

"Little girl, don't you realize that by the end of this I'll have captured you both?" The Dark Jedi laughed cruelly as they clenched their fist, tightening the coils already squeezing the life out of the Sentinel.

Atton's vision swam, painted with black spots from the lack of oxygen. While he could temporarily control his bodily functions it required concentration, something that was nearly impossible with his consciousness fading fast. He blinked, noting that Surik was moving. _She can take care of herself. Just focus and try to hold on a little bit longer in case she thinks of something. Your opponent draws their third card, it's an eight. Eight and eight are Sixteen…_ Gradually, he could feel his need to breathe lessen even though his lungs still burned for air.

Once again, Surik was pointing her pistol under her chin. "I'll shoot myself before you can take me alive!" she threatened, her voice coldly determined.

But the Sith only shook their head. "Blasters mean little to me," they responded coolly. In an instant the hand holding the lightsaber jerked, suddenly yanking the weapon from the former guard's grip and flinging it several meters away. "One has no need for blasters and physical strength when one commands the Force as I do." Through it all, they retained their hold on the Sentinel.

' _Surik,'_ Atton thought desperately. _'Run. You might be able to get away…'_ He wasn't sure how clearly his message carried through the Force, his own thoughts wavering as his grip on consciousness slipped in and out.

Something apparently got through, because his former captor merely shook her head, her expression still resolute even as her presence trembled with terror. "We're in this together," she whispered. "Which means that you're coming with me into that shuttle."

Yellow eyes flicked apathetically between the two fugitives. "Both of you already share the beginnings of a Force bond. Good." The Sith slowly stepped forward, their robes billowing behind them. "It will make you that much more fun to break. Perhaps we will even make you fight to the death as your final test of loyalty."

"No, you won't," Surik stated, her shoulders squaring as she breathed deeply. "Because you'll never catch us."

"It seems that I've already captured you." Taking another step forward, the Dark Jedi rolled the nearly-unconscious Atton towards them, considering his prone form for a moment before using the Force to lift his unprotesting body into the air. He hung limply, his chest unmoving and his lips slowly turning an unhealthy shade of blue.

Surik drew another breath, temporarily closing her eyes as her Force presence miraculously clarified, some of the fear fading away as she almost seemed to _glow_. "You can't capture us if you're dead."

The movement against his back barely registered in Atton's oxygen-deprived mind, though he managed to spot something metallic speeding through the air and landing smoothly in his former captor's palm. Less than a second later, twin lines of red plasma sizzled to life and slashed at the Dark Jedi. The unexpected motion surprised the Force user, and they barely managed to raise their own lightsaber into a guard position. It wasn't enough as Surik managed to slide one blade past their defense, slicing cleanly through their torso before spinning the second blade around in a perfect arc and lopping off their head. The dismembered body remained upright for a moment before shuddering, sliding apart, and then collapsing to the ground with three grotesque thuds.

Air rushed painfully back into Atton's lungs and he coughed harshly as he was dropped onto his back. As he laid on the ground too stunned to move, his mind was still processing what he'd just seen. "Well," he gasped, "Shit."

Wasting no time, Surik powered the lightsaber down before shoving the hilt into her belt and tugging her companion up by his jacket. "See?" she asked, also panting, "I told you a second 'saber would be useful."

"I'll have to remember to listen to you more often," Atton agreed, suddenly grinning despite the danger they were still in. He quickly stowed his own 'saber hilt before looping one arm around the woman's waist and helping her up the shuttle's landing ramp. She didn't protest, managing to keep pace despite her injury.

The instant the pair raced through the main entrance of the ship Surik pointed directly forward, giving the Sentinel a shove in the back. "You need to close the ramp from the cockpit," she explained hastily. "Go! I'll be right behind you, holding off anyone who tries to follow us in."

"And you actually mean it this time?" Atton wondered critically.

"Yes!" Practically shouting, Surik reached up to cup her companion's cheeks so that she could look him directly in the eyes as she promised, "I swear, I'm right behind you. Now GO!"

Before he had time to respond, Atton heard the shriek of blasters being fired just outside the shuttle. He gave his companion a final nod before sprinting to the front of the craft, using the Force to gain an added burst of speed. Once there he examined the consoles as he settled into the pilot's seat. The controls were simple enough, and he hurriedly did what was needed to raise the landing ramp and start the engine. There was an audible roar beneath both wings as the boosters ignited, the vehicle shaking slightly as it began to rise into the air.

Uneven footfalls echoed down the hallway as Surik stumbled into the cockpit, smiling nervously as she collapsed into the copilot's chair. She glanced over the monitors and examined the readings just as red lights began blinking throughout the shuttle. Turning to look at one of the radar displays, she cursed. "Kriff. They're giving chase!"

"Of course they are!" Atton griped. "Alright, strap in and hold on. This might get bumpy!" Reaching out for the Force, he used it to help enhance his senses and reflexes, heightening his already respectable skills as a pilot. Yanking the controls to the side, he swerved the shuttle to the right just as it soared into the air. The maneuver let them avoid the first round of fire from a vanguard of Sith starfighters, though it was obvious that they'd soon be overrun. "Remind me again what type of armament these _Conductor_ -class crafts have?"

"Oh, it's highly impressive," Surik replied sardonically. "A couple of light laser cannons."

Swallowing hard, Atton hesitantly wondered, "And… what type of armament do those Sith fighters have?"

There was a long pause before Surik responded, "Full laser cannons, but you probably don't want to think about it too hard."

"Sounds promising," Atton muttered, smoothly handling the controls and guiding the shuttle in a series of winding evasive maneuvers designed to steer them into space.

Surik winced as she was jostled in her seat, her fingers digging into the armrest as the craft shot into a sharp right turn. Despite her discomfort she still managed to check the radar readouts, growling in frustration. "We have a second wave of fighters waiting for us past atmosphere," she declared. "And we have limited shielding, so if we get hit more than once, we're going down."

"This just keeps getting better!" Gritting his teeth, Atton quickly steered the craft into a half-roll, managing to avoid exiting the atmosphere even as the original vanguard continued to gain on them. "Alright, I have a plan."

"Great." Surik slammed her palm against the readout. "Tell me!"

Forcing a roguish grin, the Sentinel tried to keep his tone jovial. "You're going to laugh, but… I need you to start the hyperdrive."

There was a long pause as Surik stared at her companion in disbelief, her hands frozen over the console. "Notice that I'm not laughing, Atton."

"Hey!" Still grinning, his expression softened as he noted, "This is the first time you called me by my first name."

" _Rand!_ " Snapping her fingers to get her companion's attention, Surik glared a warning as she stated, "I am not starting the hyperdrive _in atmosphere_! Do you know how _dangerous_ that is?"

Just as the former guard finished speaking, the vanguard of fighters fired off another volley of shots at the shuttle. Atton barely managed to evade the hits, swerving the vehicle twice before drifting for several meters and then banking a sharp left. "And flying directly into a squadron of Sith fighters is _safe_?"

Apparently convinced by this argument, Surik conceded. "Point taken!" She quickly reached up to flip several switches, announcing, "Starting the hyperdrive in three… two…"

Inputting coordinates, Atton said a silent prayer to the Force for guidance as he adjusted the necessary levers. He reached out his awareness, sensing the space around the shuttle and extending it into the starlit expanse beyond the atmosphere. He could feel the pathways that flowed into the wrinkles in realspace, though vague sensations weren't enough to guarantee safe passage. The rest would require some luck. He glanced over at his companion. "Preparing to jump to hyperspace."

"One!" Surik shouted as the small cockpit was filled with blinking warning lights and the sharp beep of an alarm informing them that the hyperdrive was primed.

Drawing a final breath, Atton pulled up on the controls to maneuver the shuttle until it was flying at almost 90 degrees perpendicular to the ground. The g-forces created pushed both Humans against their seats, practically gluing them in place as the craft rattled dangerously from the pressure. They both sucked in air, the Sentinel's knuckles white as he fought to keep their trajectory steady. Crimson light streaked past the transparisteel viewport as the fighters kept firing on them, though the planet's thick cover of sickly-green clouds helped to obscure the smaller craft's presence. Unfortunately, the cover also made it difficult to discern where they were going.

_Keep calm. You draw your fourth card, it's a seven. Fourteen and seven are twenty-one. Play the plus-or-minus one card from your side deck and the total is twenty._ Closing his eyes, Atton reached out his mind until he was navigating by feel rather than sight. He'd used this technique before, but it was always disconcerting to rely purely on the Force to sense the galaxy around him. Like this, he could feel the dark energy emanating from the planet like a scream echoing across space and time. The sensation was oppressive, at least until the moment that it suddenly faded into little more than a whisper.

Atton instinctively knew that the little shuttle had broken out of atmosphere and was now surrounded by a twinkling field of stars. "Punch it!" he yelled, already sensing the new wave of Sith fighters bearing down on them. His opened his eyes just in time to see a half dozen red lines streaking towards them at close range.

But before the cannons could hit, the shuttle was engulfed in a brilliant burst of white light as it successfully made the jump into hyperspace.

\+  +  +

"I think we're safe for now," Atton hesitantly said as he collapsed into the pilot's seat, breathing out a sigh of relief. "Three separate hyperspace jumps should throw the Sith off our trail for a while."

Surik merely nodded, the contents of the shuttle's small medkit spread out on the console around her, two expended hyposprays lying on the floor by her feet. "We still need to ditch this shuttle soon, but those jumps should buy us time."

"I can think of more than a few disreputable ports where we can trade for something less noticeable." Atton smiled smugly as he rested his hands behind his head, though he couldn't hide the disappointment in his voice when he added, "You can probably find transport there if you want to head out on your own…?"

"Hmm?" Arching a brow, Surik looked up from bandaging one of her burn wounds. "I don't think I've said this out loud, but the first time I saw you I _knew_ you were trouble. And I was _right_."

Attempting to laugh off the implication, Atton shrugged. "You were definitely right. I wouldn't blame you if you wanted a less… exciting life."

"Yeah," Surik admitted. "I feel like I've been pretty clear about this."

Scrubbing his hands over his face, Atton sighed and covered his eyes. "I remember a few choice phrases. Like the fact that I'm a coward, and I deserve to suffer…" He winced inwardly at the memory, his heart sinking as he realized this was probably the end of their adventure together.

"I did say that, didn't I?" A warm, solid weight settled into the Sentinel's lap, calloused fingers gently tugging his arm down. "But that was before I really knew you. Before I realized that you're the first Jedi I've ever met whose head doesn't reside up their own ass." Surik smirked coyly as she leaned in until their noses touched. "Before I realized that you're not just a cute face. You're funny… but maybe not as funny as you think you are. And you're also surprisingly brave when you need to be."

"Stop it," Atton muttered, a faint blush spreading over his cheeks. He ducked his head to try and hide it, but he was blocked by fingers cradling his chin. "You're joking, right?"

Surik shook her head. "Serious as a heart attack."

Laughing as he remembered the first time he'd heard those words, Atton gently clutched the woman's waist and drew her closer. "So, are you sticking around?"

"Last I heard, we're in this together." Wrapping her arms around her companion's neck, the former guard murmured, "And Atton, in case you haven't noticed, I'm kind of a magnet for trouble."

Arching a brow, the Sentinel couldn't help pointing out, "Hey Surik, that's the second time you called me by my first name."

"Meetra," the ex-Sith whispered. "My name is _Meetra_."

With that she closed the distance between their mouths and kissed Atton hard, her lips slightly chapped but warm and yielding against his. She leaned against his chest, practically melting into him with a sigh as he deepened the kiss and ran his hands down her back and over her hips. The Force flared with affection, bright and glowing around them, their presences entwining like two parts of the same whole finally given the opportunity to fit perfectly together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. There was a final conversation planned in which Atton and Meetra decide to visit Taris, implying that they might be there when amnesiac Revan, Carth, and Bastila crash there. However, it was removed due to pacing issues. I still imagine that these two continue to be troublemakers.
> 
> 2\. This was rotting in my WIP folder for months and I really wanted to finish it. So, apologies to NLwS fans waiting for the next chapter. This fic just wanted to be finished before I could work on anything else!

**Author's Note:**

> The story title and the chapter names all come from the Coheed and Cambria song “The Dark Sentencer.”
> 
> Find me on Twitter (Ergo_Maria) and Tumblr (ErgoMaria)


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